Archive for
January, 2011

Greetings from my own personal black hole of all things media. Hmm, perhaps black hole is not the analogy I’m looking for, because that would assume information could get in, it just couldn’t get out. No, me, I’m completely cut off, my own personal Egypt might be a better analogy.

We knew that the one major downside to the house we’ve rented here in Ramstein was its lack of internet access. Somehow, when laying pipes, plumbing and electricity for this community they decided not to lay any internet cables. In fact, they didn’t lay any cables at all. No internet, no TV, not even phone lines. Crazy, eh?

Must be a real old home, eh? Nope, this whole community was built only 8 years ago. Why build a home without TV cables or phone lines? Well, cost for one. Why pay to set up an infrastructure for an entire neighborhood when you can just build the houses themselves. Plus this is Germany, their idea of core essentials for housing projects differ vastly. Well, at least, we’ve got water lines, …and a 6 minute commute to the base. With roads turning to ice once a week this time of year, I gotta say internet doesn’t seem as critical.

So, If you want TV you have to have a satellite dish put up, and if you want a phone line or internet you have to get what is called an “Aircard.” An AirCard is a small device that pulls internet, and phone data out of the air. Kind of like a cell phone. AirCards are available in the US, but they require a monthly subscription from the local phone company to keep working.

However, with most folks already paying a nominal monthly phone & internet bill for a hard line coming right into their house, there really is no point. Plus AirCards are exponentially slower than the hard line variety for data transfer. So, typically, AirCard usage is reserved for business folk who travel a lot and require a good bit of internet away from their own home’s digital umbilical cord, per say. But, for those of us without the benefit of a hard line option, an AirCard is just what herr doctor ordered.

However, said gee-whiz AirCard is just staring at me right now with its blinking red light, …taunting me. What does that red light mean? I have no idea, the instructions are in German. What does it say online about said blinking light? Don’t know, said light is also preventing from getting to the internet. So I called up the store, Vodafone, but it’s Saturday after noon. Vodafone (as well as every other store in Europe) has already closed for the day. Sure there is a nice answering machine, also in German. But clearly it was advising me to, yes …check online.

Hilariously tragic, I know. But par for the course over here. No wonder the word schadenfreude is derived from German.

Now I’m a tech-savy guy, so I can figure out others ways online, right? Sure, I can. After jailbreaking our iPhones last October, I am now able to use our computer to “tether” to our phones; i.e. suck the internet through our phones into the computer. And, believe our not, this works …to an extent.

It’s a carrier-pigeon slow method of communication, but it does allow me to surf the web long enough to find the Vodafone website. However, also in German.

A quick 411 on international internet. We in the US are familiar with sites ending in “.com” and “.org”, and these sites are always, amazingly, in English. Now sure the US is the epicenter of the internet world, but as only 22% of the world speaks our language, isn’t it a bit odd that every site we see seems to magically caters to us?

Well, the reason is that once you leave the US, each country has its own internet extensions. Even if you cross the border into Canada, you’ll see their internet sites all end in “.ca”. In fact, just about every other country in the world basis their own unique internet extension on their name. China is “.cn”, England is “.uk”, and here in Germany every site ends in “.de” for Deutschland. And, of course, every site ending in .de is in German.

However, enter modern linguistic technically stage right. Sites like Google Translate “http://translate.google.com/” will take foreign sites and literally translate them word for word for you. Give it a go. Go to a German site like the German yahooo, www.yahoo.de, all in German right? Now go to http://translate.google.com/ and type in “www.yahoo.de” in to the blank space. Select the dropdowns for “German” to “English” and hit “Translate”. Viola, an English version of a German site. Cool, eh?

Alas though, none of this translation magic was actually able to help my AirCard problem, other than to make to make it clear that I needed to call the German Vodafone technical support. However, (thank you internet) I was able to find an English language phone number for the Germany Vodafone hotline. Unfortunately, it seems that their idea of waiting “on hold” is limited. Initially, I was greeted by a nice automated voice saying all lines were busy, but after 3 minutes, the same voice came back on (this time in German) saying something else and hung up. It ended with a nice Auf wiedersehen, so I imagine it said something along the lines of “We’re really busy so get on with your life, goodbye.”

Now, this whole internet thing wouldn’t be so bad if the TV wasn’t also out. See all the aforementioned issues with trying to reach the satellite folks as well. Resigned to not getting my daily fix of some sort of digital entertainment, Rachel and I decided its time to get out of the house. It was a nice, balmy, 33 degree Fahrenheit day here in Germany. There has to be some sort of cool medieval, glühwein-drenched outdoor event going on somewhere right? Well, this is Europe …so turns out there were several. And one of them even involved “…flame throwing entertainment.”

I love Germany.

So off we went in the car with our trusty friends Kevin and Megan to “Eiswoog in Flammen.” Something about a torch-themed train ride through an old German coal mining town featuring a history of, …whatever. They had me a torches.

Turns out this “Eiswoog in Flames” party was a pretty big event. In fact it was supposed to be huge. As we came upon the parking lot areas we encountered what I would consider the international sign of all parties huge, …shuttle busses. Queuing up in line in front of the busses we noticed the hot wine cider, aka glühwein, and beer was already flowing. Awesome, German tailgating. Oddly, most folks were carrying flashlights and many even had head-lamps. And, as the shuttle bus drew us closer, I could see thousands of people packed around bonfires, carrying torches in the fields out in front of us. In the distance I could see fireballs blasting in the air. …What the hell was this place?

So taking in our new flame-laden surroundings, it turns out this was something of an extreme campfire party. As the temperature was now well below freezing, it makes sense that Germany began moving this direction after the Christmas-market season ended. I give them credit, they can drink outdoors in any season. After getting our cups of obligatory hot glühwein, we all gathered around the camp fire and began to make sense of things. It seems that everything here was some sort of pre-party. Apparently, the real party is at the top of the mountain in front of us. Your options of getting up there were either walking through the wood paths using the torches, or flashlights if you brought one, or buying a ticket to take the old-fashioned train up the mountain.

Not being the hiking sort, we spent the 1 euro each on the train for tickets and queued up for the next trolley to swing by. In the mean time we got to pay closer attention to the flame juggling acts nearby …craziness. The funniest part were all the kids pressed right next to these guys. Can’t say that was the smartest parenting move, but what do I know, this was my first Flame-Fest. Eventually the trolley came along, and myself and a few hundred other people pressed in, stacked 2 and 3 to a seat, and rumbled up the hill. It was still early, but it was clear the top of the mountain was where things were being directed to, so might as well get on with the getting-on. Rolling up the hill we passed several dozen folks who had opted for the heel-toe express option. Seeing the trail of torches go up the mountain in front of us was a very surreal sight. Unfortunately, yet another activity that would never be legal in the US, “…Yah, let’s have a party with tons of alcohol and pass out torches!” Lawyers would be salivating at the idea.

Reaching the summit, we found a much larger bonfire, but relatively few people. I was told you could hike up higher on foot if you wanted, but looking that direction I couldn’t see anything noteworthy other than torches, though not for lack of looking ;). Well, we were only the 2nd train up the hill, so I figured we’d be patient. There were folks up here also serving up the glühwein and bratwurst, so we were happy.

Odd thing was, after another hour we noticed relatively few people joining us. Hey, where’s the party at? While we certainly had a good time with the group we were in, I was expecting some sort of Matrix-esque bonfire rave that never seemed to materialize.

Eventually, the sub-freezing temperature began to really win out over the hot wine and we decided to head back down the mountain. Unfortunately, no more trains had appeared in the 2 plus hours since we had arrived. Facing having to walk back to town on foot, we were a little vexed by the whole thing. Basically, it seemed we had paid someone to drop us off at the top of a mountain and leave us there? Maybe we should have taken a closer look at the trolley’s name, as the translation probably was “Train to Nowhere.”

Well, if there weren’t coming to get us, we had few options. Besides it was downhill, so at least we had that going for us. Torches lit, we began the trek back to the Flame-Fest proper. I must admit, though, that walking down an old path using a torch for light is very cool. Something very Indiana Jones about it. Turns out there is actually a trick to using a torch to guide your way. You have to hold out in front of you, clearly, but the key is to make sure it is not directly in your line of sight. You see, if you can see the flame of the torch itself it ruins your night vision. The secret is making sure its far enough forward that it lights your way, but not far enough forward that it blinds you to anything else. Kinda cool.

Halfway down the mountain we began hearing a loud noise, a very odd noise. Our torches out in front of we soon found the source of the strange noise, …and the source of problems. The trolley had broken down.

There were several guys trying to get the engine to turn over with little luck. No wonder the mountain party never took off. Well, it turned out we were the last ones to make it up the mountain. And, as we were only the 2nd group up, I see now why things were pretty lonely up there. Passing by the train in near absolute darkness we continued down the mountain passing groups along the way. Reminded me a bit of my adventure climbing mountain Fuji. Something very surreal about coming across groups of people in the middle of the wilderness, in the pitch black. Who knows what would become of them. Soon, we could hear the thumping music of the party at the base of the mountain, and could see the glows of the campfires out ahead of us. After a good 25 minute walk, we were surprisingly warm, and the exercise helped clear out the glühwein a bit from our heads.

Ahh, here was everyone. We mingled a bit more at base-camp and took in a few other local German treats, Berliners! But soon we made our was over the shuttle buss area. Seeing the lines begin to grow, we knew soon that that this party would soon resemble the one at the top of the mountain. Plus shuttle busses back from a party are always more fun then going to a party. Group sing alongs (seems the whole world likes The Gambler), and rowdy crowds make for a very interesting ride. Back at the parking lot, and with Rachel, our perennial DD, behind the wheel, we were all soon safety home back to our abyss of internet and TV.

I have to admit though, that our trip out to Eiswoog put a lot of things in perspective. Coming in through the front door I turned up the heat, and proudly flipped the switch on the wall as the lights of our castle came on. No torches required here. See, there all always things still to be grateful for.

Cut off from TV, phone and internet this week due to a variety of technically baffling and equally irritating issues, Rachel and I decide to get out of the house, and get back to basics. Who needs internet, when you’ve got torch-guided tours available through the backwoods of Ramstein, Germany? Join us this week, as we unplug and light up at the “Eiswoog in Flames” festival in this week’s blog.

A fantastic week here for Rachel and I as Rachel’s mom and sister came to visit us for a few days. Our second official set of visitors behind Rachel’s dad and stepmum. So first and foremost, a shout out to my side of the family tree that Rachel’s side has outscored you 2 nothing, so let’s get with the getting. Here’s a link. 🙂

Rachel was aglow all day before her sister and family came. Rachel had grown extremely close with her sister over the last few years and she was pacing the floor of the airport waiting for them to come through the doors, practically pawing at the gate doors. Ally would be proud.

Airports, for all their stress and pat-downs, are really special places. Family trips of a lifetime, and reunions years in the making, happening all around you. I can not think of anywhere else in the world where you see so many tears of joy as in the arrival terminal of an international airport.

A few other couples came through the gates reminding me a lot of Rachel and I as well. Their lives clearly packed in the bags stacked in the cart behind them, their future here probably just as uncertain as it was when Rachel came through those same doors 5 months ago. Of course, upstairs in international departures, I’m sure we’d see the other pendulum of those same, and equally powerful, emotions.

Taking it all in, I must say I believe I’ll begin to think of airports a little differently. A place of dreams, reunions and goodbyes.

Just about the time that I began sorting out that last poetic verse in my head, I felt Rachel’s body weight shift dramatically next to me and she tore off like a bolt, her hand practically ripped out of mine. Through the gates had come her sister and mother, and Rachel was there instantaneously with tears in her eye and a thundering embrace. You’d think this had been a decade in the coming, but for Rachel who was use to seeing them every day, it sure felt like it. I had to feel sorry for Rachel’s mom and sister a bit, they had just come off a sleepless 8 hour flight and were clearly sorting out why the sun was already up …and in came Rachel. If the scene didn’t leave you a little teary eyed yourself I’d recommend a good heart surgeon, because you would be clearly in need of one.

Piled back into our vagon moments later, Rachel and I began to take on the role of tour guide. Rachel’s mom and her sister, Lisa, were clearly exhausted from their flight, and were quite comfortable with letting us do most of the talking. And as they began to truly appreciate being able to sit somewhere that didn’t involve an uncomfortably close arm rest or a tray table aimed at their esophagus I could see them already drifting off to the sleep that had been fruitlessly chasing for the last 8 hours.

Citing off tidbits of information, and drawing attention to various aspects in the new scenery around us (and fully embracing the 3 plus cups of coffee we had driving up the airport at O-dark hundred), I really began to appreciate just how much Rachel and I had already absorbed about living in Germany. For as much as we felt lost in our own new lives, it sure *sounded* like we were well at home there.

We pointed out the obvious things such has that a large percentage of Germany is truly rural, how wind turbines littered every hillside, and what driving on the autobahn was really like. We also spoke to how daily life here differs from the states. With things closing early on Saturday and almost totally on Sundays, life here is comparable to living in a small town in the states. Except that small town is only 5 hours way from three other countries and 5 major international cities.

There’s a saying over here that to American’s 200 years seems like a long time, and to Europeans 200 miles seems like a long distance. Think about it, …see we’ve picked up all kinds of international pearls of wisdom already.

As we talked with Rachel’s family about what their plans were over the next couple of days it began to dawn on me that they really had very little intention of just sitting around the house and catching up. I guess it makes sense, sure they had come out here to see us, but for the price of the airfare and vacation time they had to burn, they also wanted to see south-western Europe as much as possible. Now part of this was to be expected, but I assumed that there would be some downtime planned in. Right?

Well, I guess if I were visiting a foreign country I could only imagine what kind of itinerary I would put together: 14 hours days of sitting seeing, skipped meals, late nights, and hours and hours of driving time. Well, funny thing, turns out we’re a lot of like.

So what began at this point was what I’ll refer to as 5 days and 500 miles.

Now one of the concerns Rachel and I had about incoming visitors would be what if we got tired of visiting all the same places? Good thing was, both Rachel’s mom and Lisa had already done the Europe thing. Rachel’s folks even lived here back in the day, and hell, Rachel was born in Germany. So, fortunately the pressure to hit the big exotic locals like Paris, Berlin and Zurich was not required. But that wasn’t to say there wasn’t plenty of plan B place to hit. And hit we did, in 5 days we saw:
o Trier, Germany
o Heidelberg, Germany
o Landstuhl Castle,
o Kaiserslautern shopping district
o Luxemburg City, Luxemburg and
o Strasbourg, France

Not bad, eh? Including our home town of Spesbach, that’s seven cites and three countries (though how Luxemburg has managed to not get swallowed up after 2000 years and 2 world wars is beyond me; seriously, …its smaller than Rhode Island) in little more than a long weekend.

I’d like to say weather was better than it was, but we had a few clear days, and Rachel’s family were real troopers (how cute are those hats?). Dropping them off on a street corner in Heidelberg in the pouring rain (I had a work meeting in town), I definitely had a sense of pause driving away. But they turned it into a great experience together. And that was really the point, being together. Sure they got to be together in some gorgeous locations (the Strasbourg Cathedral still takes my breath away), but all that was just background scenery to being three peas in a pod again.

For myself, I diligently performed the roles of navigator, chauffeur and family photographer and chimed in as needed. But I knew this trip was really about Rachel. God willing, my family would be making their visits here (uhm, did I mention the a link), and Rachel would take over the trip logistic aspects when that time came. …Or not 😉

It’s interesting some of the emotions you go through when you hear about how life is carrying on back home. Its always nice to hear that folks are doing well, and to find about who’s dating who and who’s expecting and all that. But there is a part of it all that stings knowing that life has gone on without you, that your part was to a certain extent, …replaceable. Now this isn’t to suggest that we would be expecting shrines of candles and empty placing settings awaiting our return, but it does remind you that life goes on. With or without you, it’s the nature of things.

Things are always changing, lives are always in flux. And that makes you kinda realize, there really is no “going back.” That is because the life you left won’t be there, it will be a new life and a new world that you return to.

The snapshot you have in your mind about how your life’s chess board was set up was outdated the moment you left the table. You have to let it go. Kinda of like those aunts and uncles you grew up with, who were always so surprised to see how big you’ve gotten in the months since their last visit. Like they assumed we all just went on “pause” after they’d gone. Sure, it would be great to think that things would just kinda rotate in place while you are gone keeping your seat warm for you, but that is an unrealistic notion.

We’ve only been gone 5 months and the chess pieces in our lives have been in a flurry of motion, as they should. It isn’t fair to think that we would be the only ones allowed to make a go at new lives. The lesson here is that it turns out you don’t just walk away from your life all at once, in a swift goodbye. You walk away from it a bit more each day. As that life is left to grow unrecognizable in and of itself. As that life goes on filling in the space you left.

When Rachel and I returned from Japan in September of 2006, after 6 months in Asia, and a year of traveling, it was interesting to see our respective social circles try to recalibrate to our presence. It wasn’t easy by any means. In some cases it didn’t work. Married folks hang out with married folks, and couples with kids move on to hanging out with other couples with kids. Lives realigning, its normal. Soon some of the closest people in your life just started heading a different direction, becoming just a icon on your contacts page.

Who knows what will happen after this tour is done, which will be considerably longer. Those social circles could be scattered across the globe.. Hey, but at least there’s Facebook, right? In today’s day and age, anyone is only a few mouse clicks away. Funny, I remember there use to be a time when saying Goodbye really meant something. Still some are always harder than others.

And sadly, 500 miles (photo album) can come and go too quickly just the same, and soon we were back at the airport, this time experiencing the other side of Frankfurt International Airport, …the departure gate.

Hugs, tears and promises of future trips blended in with the conversations around us. It’s always hard finding the words. And soon we were on the road back to our home, and Rachel’s’ family was on the road back to theirs, 3000 miles away. Rachel leaned her head against the side window, and closed her eyes. Soon she let out a quite murmur, “…I miss them already.”

Just another reminder that World Tours like ours are not for the feint of heart.

An exciting week around the R&R German household this week as Rachel’s mom and sister pay us a visit. No rest for the weary, however as we explore three countries and seven cities in just a week, … 500 miles in five days. For those considering visiting us here in Germany, this write-up will serve as a good primer for what you can expect to see and do while you are here. All this and I wax nostalgic about all that we’ve left behind, in this week’s blog.

Happy New Year! Welcome to part II of our Parisian blog. Parisian, what a cool word. Wish I could call myself something like Amersian, so much cooler than “American.” Though, there is something empowering about the whole “I-can” part, I guess. Wow, Twenty-Eleven, eh? Man, that sounds like something out of the Jetsons. Well, there is still so much more for us to see in do in Paris. Join us for our New Year’s blog, Part deux.

Happy New Year. Welcome to part II of our Parisian blog. So Twenty-Eleven, eh? Wow, that sounds like something out of the Jetsons. I remember before leaving the States I saw a high school marquee say Congratulations Class of 2010. Wow, seems so far in the future.

Hell, now that’s the past, crazy. Imagine in just four short years we’ll actually be the date that Michael J Fox warped too in the Back to the Future (though there was a cool internet prank showing that date as actually being last July).

So with our pseudo-legal fireworks festivities behind us, it was time to get down to some real exploring. Like I mentioned in the last blog, there is a lot to see and do in Paris. So much so, that we could only spend a brief amount of time at each locale prior to moving on. Again, when you are on a tour bus nothing moves quickly. It takes a good 15 minutes to get everyone off the bus, bundled up, organized and moving in any cohesive single direction. I actually imagined that a summer-time tour would be considerably faster, just because you would not have to worry about 50 people’s worth of coats, gloves, scarves and hats to deal with.

And getting people back on the bus is even worse. Amongst 50 people, someone is invariably late, or will cause some delay (missing camera, phone or in once case …child) that slows the other 40+ people down. It’s like herding cats. Food and rest area breaks go from 15 minutes to 45 minutes minimum. But, like, I mentioned last week its the trade off you make for not having to worry about any of the logistics, or parking, or getting lost, or worry about restaurant and museum hours. Did you know the Louvre is closed on Mondays, I know my sister does. She found out the hard way.

So like cattle, Rachel and I mooed along cordially and did our best to be patient while waiting for those inconsiderate others, or to hustle along if we ourselves had gotten sidetracked. But, no complaints here, Paris is a lovely city to get sidetracked in. And it’s the sojourns off the beaten path that typically give you the best insight into the new world around you. Tours and tourist stops are designed to be as professional, efficient and well, sterile, as possible wherever you go. Collect your money, move you through, and exit you through the gift shop. To glean anymore than an historical appreciation or, take a few pictures, you have to claw at the surface a little bit. This isn’t to say you should buck the system, but if everyone around you goes right, I’ve found going left has its own charms.

Our 2nd day of the tour began, well pretty late. Obvious New Year’s Day hangovers aside, it appears many of us iPhone-addicted tourists ended up discovering a pretty unfortunate New Years Day bug with the iPhone alarm clock feature. It didn’t work. Something about the phone’s alarm system not acknowledging it was 2011 already. Crazy. How that slipped through Apple’s testing was beyond me. So a good number of folks overslept, and we ended up losing a good 45 minutes off the start of our day.

Finally on the road we began our day’s tour with a trip to the world renowned Notre Damn cathedral. Roughly translated to “Our Lady”, Notre Damn cathedral claims to be the definitive cathedral in the world, and standing there staring in awe of the overwhelming stained glass windows and seemingly wafer thing pillars (aka filigree) reaching out to the sky, its tough to argue. It even had gothic gargoyles glaring down at you, daring you to enter. Brilliantly creepy. From there we moved down the Champs Élysée for a stroll up to the Arch De Triumph, which was quite a bit more impressive up close than you would initially expect it to be.

Finally it was time to for our visit up Eifel Tower. It had been visible at every turn of our tour, it was a tease we had to wait so long to each it see it up close. And, as it turned out, we weren’t the only ones with the ideas, as a good 50,000 visitors crowded the area around the four legs of the Tower. The line to get in stretched out over 3 hours. At 6 million visitor s a year, the Eifel Tower is actually the world’s most visited Tourist stop, take that Roman Coliseum.

Fortunately, we our group had advanced “reservations” (see previous blog about the advantages of tour group trips), so we were inside in just a few minutes. We all crowded into an elevator, filled with humorous signs to help us avoid pick pockets, and waited for it to go up. At that point a funny thing happened, the elevator didn’t go up, well not exactly.

It went up at a very odd angle. More like 50% up, and 50% to the side. Like the end of Willy Wonka and the chocolate factory. Of course as we were attached to the legs of the tower, this made sense, but clearly unexpected by everyone in the car, as we all leashed out and grabbed whatever we could. The elevator conductor, tucked safety behind his guard rail, let out a chuckle. Clearly screwing with tourists was the highlight of his day.

There were 3 main levels to the Eifel tower, but as the conditions were foggy, there was no point going to the top. Stepping out onto the 2nd level was very cool as well, as while we were well above the city still, we weren’t so high that we couldn’t make out our immediate surroundings. I will say though, that tourist uber-hype and mega-commercialization aside, it was very cool to hang out on the Eifel tower. Sipping an espresso on a bench looking out over Paris, was cool. I could see the allure immediately.

Time slipped away and soon we were hoping back into the Wonka-mobile elevator and sliding diagonally down to the ground

From here we were headed to another one of those Tourist-Trap required stops on our trip, the Hard Rock Café for dinner. But after the roasted liver, Duck ordeal form the night before I must say it was a bit of a relief. Also, as Paris was still overflowing with tourists, and locals take 3-4 hours to eat dinner, our options to try and dine out on our own seemed slim to nil. As we crowded into the Hard Rock, our decision to be mindless lemmings on the tour turned out to be a good one, as we saw other members of our group show up 45 minutes later looking crest fallen after striking out on their own. Sure we kinda sold out by going the American food approach for our second meal, but at least we had… French Fries, 😉

The final day of our Parisian adventure (there’s that word again) took us through the worlds largest Palace (including the Vatican) and the world’s most famous museum. Like I said before, Paris is a city if Superlatives. Now there was good news and bad news about our final day. Turns out the first Sunday of every month Paris museum are Free. Seems truly generous of the French, but keep in mind we come from DC where each Smithsonian museum is free year-round. So the good news is that both the Palace of Versailles and the Louvre would be free to get into, and the bad news was …both the Palace of Versailles and the Louvre would be free to get into. Yes, epic long lines were in our future.

Now as we got to the Palace of Versailles well before it opened we only had to wait in line 30 minutes. Which was not bad at all, considering that line quickly grew to over 3 hours by the time we got out. Now getting into the Louvre at mid day we assumed would be a catastrophe. Except our tour guide new about a …secret entrance!

No kidding, we walked up to see this huge line going into the front door, however there was a hidden alternate entrance that lead in from an underground mall that was completely empty. Again, something we would not have figured out on our own. I could not believe that there were thousands of people in one line, and a few hundred yards away we waltzed right in. Truly amazing. But there you go. Anyone want to know about the secret entrance to the Louvre, shoot me an email.

So the big payoff at the Louvre is to see 3 things: The Mona Lisa, the Venus De Milo and the Winged Victory.

Now we already knew not to get our expectations up about the Mona Lisa. It was very small, and very dark, and you couldn’t get close enough to it to truly take it in. But we were here to give a shot.

The thing I was told to look for with the Mona Lisa was to determine where her mysterious smile came from. Do not spend time wondering what was she smiling about, but was she actually smiling at all. I was told that if you look into here yes, or at her lips, or even towards her cheeks, you could not discern the smile independently. However, by taking in the whole image there was truly something there. And this wasn’t something you could photograph. Apparently the way Da Vinci layered the paint thicker in some areas caused subtle shadows and caused her to appear differently from every angle. Apparently her eyes were layered with the thickest amounts of paint, which accounts for why she seems to looking at you no matter where you are standing. Fascinating, the world’s first 3D painting.

Finally making our way around to the room that held the Mona Lisa there was no doubt where she was. Hundreds of photographers jockeying for position, flashbulbs popping off (though not allowed) everywhere. There was actually no way to see the Mona Lisa unless you took a deep breath and plunged your way into the throngs of people. After 15 minutes of what must be the world’s only art museum mosh pit, we eventually got pushed up the front to get an unimpeded view of the world’s most famous painting. The shifting eyes, the mysterious smiles, the subtle androgynous tones about the subject, the shades of paints and subtle shadows. Nice work Leo, you did good on this one.

Walking away I got a quick photo of Mona’s (we’re on a first name basis now, ha ha) viewpoint on the crowd. Hilarious.

Finally free of the huddled masses yearning to breathe free (yah, not a Louvre quote, but French in origin enough), we made our way out to the tour buses one more time to begin the trek back across the border to Germany. After 3 straight days we were spent. Paris is just too much city for one weekend, but C’est la Vie.

On our way out of town we passed by several more noteworthy locations. One was the Paris Opera House, where the famous Phantom of the Opera was to have been set, and the other was a good deal less glamorous. It was a small underpass tunnel of concrete and stone about 15 minutes outside of Paris.

As we drove through it you would not have even noticed the bouquet of flowers that laid inside the tunnel if you were not looking for it. However, here, on exactly the 8th pillar inside on the left hand side was the location of the violent car crash that cost the life of Lady Diana, Princess of Wales. A grim reminder that the City of Love is comparable of equally powerful heartbreak as well. That was 14 years ago already. Certainly one of those “Do you remember where you were” moments of our time.

And then, after 5 hours, and 1 more union-regulated rest break later, we were home again.

Though not cheap by any means, I certainly hope to return to Paris by ICE train next visit. Taking the ICE train, if we left our home at 11 am we could be in Paris just after 1pm. And we do hope to return Paris again in the spring, in particular get to see outside of Paris. They say a “city is a city is a city.” Implying anywhere you go, major cities are all kind of the same in a metropolitan kind of way.

I’ve found Dublin to be like Boston, and Tokyo to be like Time Square. To really understand a place, is to see its people. So I’m actually pleased to have gotten the obligatory been-there-done-that parts of Paris out of the way, so we can actually go out and meet some of its people and really take in some of the culture of its towns and inhabitants away from the city-centers. I colleague of mine rented a château with his family in France over the long Christmas to New Years break. He said the local markets offered very authentic slices of French life, and that sounds like a marvelous idea.